


Transversal

by betweenheroesandvillains



Category: Avengers: Endgame - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ageing, Gay Marriage, M/M, Potential Spoilers!, fix-it for the ending of Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 04:23:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18613078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betweenheroesandvillains/pseuds/betweenheroesandvillains
Summary: He remembered an afternoon, so bright and golden it had hurt in its perfection, dancing in the living room.





	Transversal

**Author's Note:**

> I watched Endgame and somehow had in mind they wanted to make one of the characters queer, so when the ending rolled around I first got my hopes up and then... well. So I fixed it.
> 
> WARNING FOR POTENTIAL ENDGAME SPOILERS

“Want to tell me about her?”

Steve looked up at Sam. He really seemed to consider the thought, lips twitching. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bucky, shifting from one leg to the other. Bucky, who had Sam now. Bucky, who knew all of Steve's secrets by heart. The corners of his mouth curled up.

“No.”

That was all he said before he turned his eyes to the horizon again. Sam stood for a moment before he shrugged and wandered off.  
Bucky slid onto the bench next to him, thigh touching thigh, shoulder pressed to Steve's shoulder. His hands were in his pockets, half his face obscured by hair. Steve didn't have to look at him to know the sharp melancholy in his face. Decades ago, he would have felt a sharp twang of guilt under his sternum, but age had smoothed even that down.  
Carefully, he opened one of his old, weathered hands and waited. An invitation, not a demand.  
Bucky got one of his hands out of his pocket and laced his fingers through Steve's. It felt warm, and natural. It wasn't a touch to make the world stop, not any longer. It felt better than that.

“Tell me about him.”

Bucky's voice was soft, and free of any judgement. After a life of his gaping absence, Steve felt closer to him than he ever had.

“His name was David. He was beautiful.” Steve's fingers curled closer around Bucky's. “You would have loved him, too. Very clever. Very patient. I met him in a bar in Brooklyn in '47.”

–

They had been married in 1952, in Peggy's backyard. She had officiated herself, and when some concerned neighbour had called the police she had pulled rank on the cops to keep Steve from spoiling his own wedding day.

In the early 60s Steve bought a house close to Peggy's and David moved in with him.  
He remembered an afternoon, so bright and golden it had hurt in its perfection, dancing in the living room. He remembered Peggy's head under his chin, soft and fitting perfectly, like a puzzle piece fallen into place. He remembered David's hand in his, chest pressed against chest as they did the slowest waltz in the history of waltzes. He had never felt so soft in his life.

They had taken pictures on Peggy's soft sofa, David in Steve's arms and his brown hair tickling Steve's nose, and in the pictures they were smiling so wide it must have hurt. Steve didn't remember any pain, just the infinite softness of the afternoon, and the strange emptiness that was Bucky's absence.

They'd had a long and wonderful life together. Married for almost fifty-two years.  
David had died in 2003, at the age of 81. Cancer. It had gone quick. He had taken his last breath at home in their bed, Steve gently stroking his hair. The crack in his heart had been leaking ache ever since.

–

“I am sorry.” Steve looked over to Bucky, needing him to know he meant it. “I'm sorry. But I just couldn't do it any longer.”  
Bucky smiled at him, half sad. “I understand.” He shifted closer to Steve, his head resting on Steve's shoulder, their sides pressed together shoulder to toe. He had loved David with his whole heart. But in this moment, it felt like a pain so old he had forgotten about it had finally healed. Sitting with Bucky was coming home. Bucky burying his nose in the crook of Steve's neck was coming home. He could not have loved Bucky this way a lifetime ago, too caught up in all those things that needed doing. Now, he had time, and the infinite gentleness of the love he felt for Bucky almost overwhelmed him.  
Steve swallowed. “Listen, Buck. I know it's sudden. I know the timing is probably shit. But I have missed you for decades now, and I really want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you'd be okay with that.”

A tense moment of silence spread between them, thick as honey, cold as ice.  
Then, Bucky laughed softly. “God, you really did take all the stupid with you.” His eyes were dancing with laughter. “Steven Grant Rogers, I have loved you my whole fucking life. I'm sure as hell not stopping now.” He looked Steve in the eye. “With you till the end of the line, pal.”

Steve smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He tightened his hand around Bucky's and watched as the horizon turned pink, his heart at peace for the first time.  
Bucky leaned against him, the two of them melting into each other, hands joined and finally, finally free.

“Tell me more about David.”


End file.
